


soft touch

by brandywine421



Series: soft [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol Withdrawal, Friendship, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Post-Season/Series 03, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-17 10:24:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16514552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine421/pseuds/brandywine421
Summary: "Never tell the doctors the whole truth," he replies darkly.  "Not even when your friends insist it's the only way.""Ouch," she winces.  "It's like that?""I had to weasel out of a 5150 hold because of one fucking dropped line. The scars didn't help my case, apparently," Matt spits out. "But now I've got all this extra time to wallow in it because Foggy and Karen don't want me in the office too much."She doubts the truth of that last part. "But you're still running the streets at night with their blessing?"He frowns sharply. "I have guidelines. I'm trying to follow the guidelines.  There's a barfight going on three blocks down, if you're interested," Matt says, tilting his head. "Punching homophobes always makes me feel better."She wraps her fingers around at the unopened pint of whiskey in her pocket. "I'm down. Any 'guidelines' I need to be informed of?""Not if I have capable backup," Matt smirks. "Why do you think I decided to say hello when you caught me out?"Matt and Jessica share some 'down time'.  Matt's trying to be a better friend and Jessica makes a pretty good trial subject.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Last section of my post-season 3 self-indulgent recovery thing. Matt and Jessica share some 'down time'. Matt's trying to be a better friend and Jessica makes a pretty good trial subject.

Jessica gets the news of Murdock's vague 'return from almost death' from Nelson but she could've just read it in the paper by that point. She doesn't regret drinking her way through the Fisk drama, she deserved it after her last entirely too amicable breakup spiral.

She wishes the best for the guy but she's in no hurry to give him a hug or anything. Maybe a kick in the nuts for making them abandon a fellow soldier to hell. Bad metaphor but she's sticking to it. Asshole.

She misses Trish and hates herself for it.

For the first time in her life, she thinks she might be drinking too much but there's no one left for her to admit it to. It makes it even more important to do if it's only to prove it to herself.

That's her story and she's sticking to it. After she finishes this bottle.

Or not.

She should take out the trash. Maybe buy some snacks. She's not a quitter, even at quitting. 72 hours sober and she would be over the withdrawal. That's not that long. She can totally do that.

 

* * *

 

It's closing on 2 a.m. so she shouldn't be surprised to find Murdock out and about but the jeans and hoodie make her think twice. He doesn't flinch at her approach but she isn't trying to sneak up on him either. "Jessica."

"You're out late, don't you have work tomorrow?"

He shakes his head once. "Huh. Forgot you lived on this block."

She doesn't quite believe him but she shoves her hands into her pockets to hide her impulse buy and the first hint of the shakes.

"I'm not allowed to work full time right now," Matt says when she doesn't move on. She forgets to move on.

She gapes at him and he senses her surprise without being able to see it. "Why?"

"Medical leave. It's not like I have a steady paycheck but my current partners are making it happen anyway."

She scans him but considering the last time she saw him he was being beaten to death by his ex, he looks pretty good. "What kind of medical?"

"Never tell the doctors the whole truth," he replies darkly. "Not even when your friends insist it's the only way."

"Ouch," she winces. "It's like that?"

"I had to weasel out of a 5150 hold because of one fucking dropped line. The scars didn't help my case, apparently," Matt spits out. "But now I've got all this extra time to wallow in it because Foggy and Karen don't want me in the office."

She doubts the truth of that last part. "But you're still running the streets at night with their blessing?"

He frowns sharply. "I have _guidelines_. I'm trying to follow the _guidelines_."

"Seriously, ouch."

"There's a barfight going on three blocks down, if you're interested," Matt says, tilting his head. "Punching homophobes always makes me feel better."

She wraps her fingers around at the unopened pint of whiskey in her pocket before sliding it into the first garbage can she finds. "I'm down. Any 'guidelines' I need to be informed of?"

"Not if I have capable backup," Matt smirks. "Why do you think I decided to say hello when you caught me out?"

That's an acceptable reason to follow him into the shadows.

 

* * *

 

She doesn't have an acceptable reason to follow him into a church basement but she's still riding the adrenaline rush of fighting side by side with the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

She doesn't know why her boots echo in the dark space when his steps are like soft kitten-hops. He doesn't seem surprised to see the actual nun waiting in the small sleep area.

"All of your friends are utterly charming, Matthew," the nun says flatly and waves a washcloth in her direction. "Sit down, let me look at that cut."

There are lines to how far her rudeness goes even in her current unsteady shape but talking back to a nun seems to be a new boundary. She sits. The small woman walks over with an antiquated first aid kit that she half expects to be filled with torture equipment. Matt warily puts his hand on her shoulder.

"She's a friend, it's better than a hospital," Matt says quietly.

"Matthew seems to think a lot of things are better than a hospital," the Sister sighs. "This may sting."

Jessica hisses when she cleans the gash across her cheek but she's not about to lower her guard around this stranger. Matt keeps his hand settled in place.

"You've got a lot of fans around here, Miss Jones, take care to stay out of sight when you leave. It's bad enough the kids know the Devil creeps in our shadows; we'd never hear the end of it if another local hero turns up. Matthew's _ruined_ our reputation," she adds but it's more fond than Jessica expects.

"She knows?" Jessica asks Matt.

"I grew up here," Matt responds slowly. "My priest brought me here after Midland Circle to recover. Sister Maggie took care of me."

 _Priest_. She remembers that headline. Damn, Murdock, how many people can he lose before he loses his mind? Then she remembers his dropped lines about therapy and 'self-care' and figures that might be the point of the matter.

"So you saw him in all his red fetish glory?" Jessica asks, appreciating the hint of a smirk on Sister Maggie's face almost as much as Matt's huff of annoyance.

"It was a quite _unfortunate_ design, but it is not my place to judge," the nun replies.

Jessica laughs at her lie. She's totally judging.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," Matt mutters.

"I don't think you'll need stitches," Sister Maggie hesitates. "You recover faster than Matthew, perhaps?"

"It'll be a scratch by morning, no sewing required," she replies.

Sister Maggie glares at Matt and he seems to feel it and visibly stiffens. "Maybe you should ask Miss Jones to walk you home instead of Miss Page."

"I don't ask anyone to walk me home," Matt frowns.

"She thinks that gun's going to keep her safe so she doesn't have to break a nail," Sister Maggie continues. "I don't like her bringing it into the church."

"She doesn't bring it inside - why are you picking on Karen today?" Matt asks, removing his hand now that he's fully focused on Sister Maggie. This lady knows how to wrangle the Devil and Jessica's fucking impressed.

Sister Maggie plasters a band-aid over the worst of the cut and makes quick work of wiping her down with a clinician's attention. Jessica doesn't pull her hands away when the nun clucks at her busted knuckles. "This is a tragedy. You don't have to be as dramatic as Matthew with his ropes but you should take care of your fists if they're your weapon of choice. Karen at least keeps her gun clean."

Matt throws up his hands.

Jessica nods and realizes she's been wrangled, too.

"There's a shower, but I can't promise hot water this time of night. Matthew, since you're not a simpering mess, please go see Sister Ruth in the clinic."

Matt studies the nun. "You lost another bet?"

"She'll give you some ice for Miss Jones after you've read any children you've disturbed a story so hurry up." Matt scurries off with a steadying pat on her shoulder for luck.

"Thank you, Sister. Church is not really my thing so I'm sorry Matt dragged you into this," Jessica says, nervous now that she's alone with the tiny woman that can shame the Devil.

"I'm always flattered when Matthew introduces me to his friends. He needs reassurance that I lecture all sinners equally," she adds.

 _Awesome_.

"No one's forgotten what you did for Hell's Kitchen, either," Sister Maggie says softly. "Nobody says that ' _man's_ ' name around here, had a few parishioners put that unwritten rule on the books before, _well_."

 _Shit_. Really? "So you're cool with what I do, but have issues with gun control?"

Sister Maggie returns to her stern default expression but her eyes stay fond and warm. "Karen drives some of our girls to do volunteer work in bad areas and it's definitely *not* because of her weapon's permit," she confides. "Sometimes the only way to get Matthew to stop worrying over one thing is to give him something else. I think you and Karen can handle yourselves just fine - it's all the rest that he needs to be coddling. I don't think Mr. Nelson's ever thrown a punch in his life."

Jessica laughs despite herself. "Foggy just has self-restraint, he's going to try to talk his way out long before he messes up his manicure. Matt could use more backup like that."

"He doesn't like me. Please don't tell Matthew I mentioned him - I don't think I'm allowed to mention him," Sister Maggie says suddenly.

 _Huh_. "He'll come around, Foggy's a soft touch, if he can put up with me then you can't be so scary."

Matt returns before she has to give the Sister an actual pep-talk. He has a a towel and stack of icepacks and a baby balanced on his shoulder.

"Did you ask permission to take that child?" Sister Maggie asks.

"He threw up on Sister Joan, she had to change her clothes. I still smell blood," Matt frowns.

"Sorry, I'll wash up," Jessica remembers the shower offer.

"And I'll return Thomas to the nursery," Matt tells Sister Maggie. "Thank you for your help tonight."

"Thank you for settling my losses," the nun calls after him.

 

* * *

 

She's not sure why Matt's still putting up with her when she's been sweating and snappy since daylight but she still follows him out of her shithole apartment for free breakfast.

She counts the full meal as a win and after breaking Murdock's brand new punching bag she figures she owes it to him to tag along to meet his 'super secret friend' that can give him a discount on a replacement.

The giant hulk of a man is not who she expects when Matt pulls down his newest fail of a mask and introduces her to Melvin Potter.

"Betsy said I wasn't supposed to make stuff for you anymore," Melvin says, his expression laced with disappointment.

"I know. I'm in time-out," Matt replies and the giant smiles in surprise. "But this isn't for me - and it's not for anything that Betsy would disapprove of. You can tell her."

"You're in time-out? But - " Melvin covers his mouth and Jessica snickers when she hears him rumble in laughter.

Matt sighs. "I made a lot of mistakes, Melvin, so now I have to work hard to make things right. Don't rub it in."

"What do you need?" Melvin asks, finally sizing up Jessica. He has soft eyes for such a dangerous form.

"This is my friend, Jessica, and she's very strong. Heavy bags are expensive and she broke mine," Matt explains.

Melvin puffs out his chest. "How strong? I bet she wouldn't break my bag."

Jessica glances at Matt. "Do I have to pay for it?"

Melvin leads them deeper into his shop to a large room with assorted weightlifting gear. "I can't go to the gym," he explains sadly. "I even break the prison equipment."

"Big guys like us don't need gyms," Jessica says, ignoring his surprised look when he remembers her much smaller size. She picks up the largest of the barbells with one hand and he laughs in delight.

"You impressed Melvin so I already owe you lunch," Matt says, fluidly climbing the scaffolding to perch on the high pull-up bar to oversee his meet and greet. "Make sure you wrap your knuckles before you start punching."

She drops the barbell and heads over to the oversized heavy bag. It's definitely sturdier than Matt's destroyed gear. Melvin holds out a set of gloves that are way too big for her but keep the devil quiet behind them.

"If you break it, then I get to make a better one," Melvin encourages her.

It takes three solid tries but she manages to bust it. Melvin is delighted and begins murmuring about measurements and reinforced gloves.

"Not for fighting, but for practice. Don't want to get the Devil in more trouble with your minder," Jessica warns.

Melvin beams at her. "Of course, Miss Jessica."

 

* * *

 

"Why does it feel like we made that guy's whole day when we asked him for a favor?" Jessica asks as she flicks on the lights in Matt's apartment.

"You made his whole day, not me. He deserves a better hero than the Devil to look up to," Matt says, opening his fridge to pull out a water pitcher. "Want anything? Whiskey, beer?"

God, she wants both of those. "Anything else?"

It takes a long moment for him to answer and she knows he's not searching his fridge. "Got a fancy new espresso machine if you don't mind a wait."

"Espresso? Really?" Jessica scoffs, snooping into his kitchen at the sleek oversized machine.

"Marci paid about six grand for it, had it custom-made for me," Matt says. "Everyone wants me to have healthier hobbies so if I show the slightest interest in something, they pull out all the stops. It's harassment."

"It's sweet," she says without thinking. He gives her a horrified expression and she huffs. "You know what I mean. Is it helping?"

"If they ask - absolutely," he says, turning his attention back to the machine taking up most of his counterspace. "It's totally helping."

"Matt," she whispers.

"But off the record, I don't fucking know. I don't know what they need to see, I don't know how to - do *this*, before, _sure_ \- I could do it - but I don't know how to 'be normal' now that everyone knows I'm not," he blurts out. "But I can make you a damn good espresso and we can smile and pretend like I'm not coming off a three month mental breakdown."

"I'm expecting perfection, Murdock," Jessica says, taking a seat on a stool. "Are you making me your new hobby?"

"No, you don't treat me like I'm a ticking time bomb. It's nice." He frowns at her. "I needed a break from all the coddling, _Christ_ , and now you're getting all twitchy, too."

"Not everything's about you. I'm eight hours sober on purpose and you've been a great distraction so far - so the coffee better come through. Tell me another hobby."

"Knitting. I'm shit at it but the yarn was soft in the art store and Foggy bought me the sticks and everything," he mutters, motioning to what looks like a bale of colorful yarn pierced with mismatched sizes and styles of needles for crochet or knitting.

She laughs at his vitriol. "What else?"

"Grab my tablet. You can help with this part - the shrink wants me to journal and after I gave her three transcripts of my nightly prayers of penance, she says I should try poetry."

Jessica forgets all about the whiskey and beer lurking in the Devil's cabinets. " _Please_ let me read your emo poetry."

"I'm not allowed to do limericks, per Karen, but Foggy approved haiku. I welcome you to make up your own so I'll have enough to make it look like I've been doing it every day," he snickers.  
  
She has to read it out loud.

 

 

>   
>  _i hate your dumb face._  
>  _you are a punk and you suck._  
>  _maybe you should choke._
> 
> _toes are like mutant_  
>  _fingers. so gross don't touch me_  
>  _with those nasty nubs._
> 
> _Fuck you fuck you fuck_  
>  _you motherfucker fuck you._  
>  _fuck you with a stick._

 

He puts an impressive cup of foamed coffee in front of her and she catches his hand. " _ **Matt**_. Your poetry speaks to my _soul_."

"Thank you, I figured you would appreciate it," Matt laughs softly.

She lets go of his hand and wraps her fingers around the small mug. It smells good but her stomach does a thing.

"Eight hours?" he asks.

"Give or take. I should probably go soon so I can get sick in my own space," she admits.

"You have any outstanding cases?"

She shudders. "No. Rent's paid out six months so I'm not taking calls right now."

Matt hums and taps his fingers on the counter thoughtfully. "You should stay here. You won't find a cleaner bathroom in Hell's Kitchen and you'll probably find a workable detox kit if you hit up my medicine cabinet - but you have to mark whatever you take because Foggy counts that shit."

"We might be _almost_ friends now, Murdock, but in a couple of hours I might rip you to pieces," Jessica says. "I shouldn't be around people."

"I won't be around the whole time, it's Friday. I might have things to do. You don't know my life," Matt replies with a straight face. "It'll keep my friends off my back for a few days and it's not like I'm going to 'see' you get messy sick - but I'll still be able to help if you need it."

"If I need it," Jessica repeats.

He nods. "I know about boundaries. I need to practice being a better friend and you're sturdy enough for a test run. You're wasting my fancy cuppa."

"Now you made it weird. _Cuppa_? Really?"

"Come see the awesome bathtub," Matt suggests.

"I'm not agreeing to anything, Murdock," Jessica protests but she lets him drag her into the other room.

He slides his fingers across a shelf and retrieves a small remote control and presses it into her palm. "Blackout curtains for the billboard and to dampen outside noise. Personally, I hate it but Karen and the doc wanted me to try it."

"Can't sleep?" Jessica asks.

"Not here," Matt admits. "Not unless I'm too tired to move and even then - it's different now. I can sleep when someone's nearby. Never tell Foggy, God, you're such a snoop."

She laughs. "Sure, asshole. But if I start to hallucinate, you gotta take me home."

"If you start to hallucinate, I'm probably going to stick you with a sedative or put you down for the count," he replies. "If you want to go home, you'll ask me with a face of poise and rationality."

"Did you just quote - " Jessica starts but she spots the massive bathtub with enough jets to count as a jacuzzi and deep enough for him to completely submerge if he wants. The life-jacket and kid-sized water wings have Nelson's fingerprints all over them.

"I have physical therapy and this keeps me out of the gross public pool."

She sighs. "Are you sure?"

"I'll be getting a welfare check phone call in about thirty minutes and I'll put in a request for some ginger ale, Gatorade, whatever you can think of."

"So telling your friends is part of the deal?"

He snorts. "I wouldn't subject you to that. Boundaries are important and we pay the kid at the bodega to bring supplies when I can't go out."

She eyes the tub again but feels like she should save the experience for when she can appreciate it. "We can give it a go. Hopefully my healing factor will kick in before I fuck up your place."

"Thanks," Matt smiles. "I really wasn't looking forward to another weekend of suicide watch, so you're doing me a solid."

"Yeah, wait until you hold my hair for a couple of hours and see if you're still grateful," she says, steering him back to the bedroom.

He pulls open a drawer and holds up a hair tie. "Problem solved."

 

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is possibly AU for JJS2 but I'm rolling with it. Vague it up and it should work ;)

   
_"Just because I have a woman in my apartment does not mean I'm sleeping with her."_

_"Matt."_

_"I expected you to understand the concept of platonic friendship, Karen. You stayed here enough times without dropping your panties - "_

_"Never say that word, ugh, you know I hate that word."_

She's stable enough after the hours of vomiting and chills and fever dreams to need them to shut the hell up. She wraps her newest blanket around her shoulders and shuffles into the living room. Karen's face lights up in shock so she counts it as a win.

Matt walks over on bare feet and puts down the plastic bucket at her side before darting into his room for his 'ninja cleaning regiment' which no one is ever allowed to call OCD. She's spent too much time sprawled across his bathroom floor to point out he might have an issue.

"He could have just said it was you," Karen huffs. "Are you all right?"

"Ask me next week," she replies, claiming the corner of the couch to tuck her feet underneath her. "He told me you guys had him on lockdown but promised not to rat me out without permission."

Karen rolls her eyes. "He's not on lockdown - _you're not on lockdown_!" she yells into the back.

"I was paraphrasing," Jessica snorts. "But I raided his medicine cabinet - with his permission -and marked what I took on the chart."

Karen inhales sharply but nods. "He told you about that?"

"Enough. Not sure why you guys are acting like suicidal tendencies is brand new information, I knew the guy ten minutes and you could tell he was on the edge."

Her lips narrow into a stark line. "Maybe so, but we're being honest with each other now and offering and accepting help within agreed upon boundaries is a new development."

Jessica can tell she's overstepped and needs to roll it back. "He's sticking to your guidelines, Page. He _offered_ me a place to ride out my most recent sobriety attempt and I _accepted_. I'm not desperate enough to make him draw up a contract about it."

Matt walks out with the stripped bedsheets and towels, smelling faintly of bleach. He drops the pile and brings a blanket to her and holds it out. "Swap. You're gross."

She reluctantly trades her blanket out for a freshly laundered one and settles back on the couch with a triumphant glare at Karen.

"Be nice and stop talking about me. I'm taking down the garbage and laundry," Matt tells Karen.

He makes it to the edge of the room before Jessica clears her throat. "Put on shoes, Asshole."

"Oh. Right," Matt redirects his trajectory before the door closes behind him.

"Sobriety, is that new? I mean, Foggy knows you better - I didn't know that was a thing you needed to work on," Karen says, visibly uncomfortable.

Jessica grumbles through a shrug. "It's not the first time I've given up the bottle, probably won't be the last but it's - I haven't taken a break in a while. Functional alcoholic isn't how I want to be remembered. I'll take functional, or alcoholic, but not both. Both makes me feel shitty."

"You ever try a program?"

"I don't really feel the need to share my deepest trauma with strangers at a meeting. Besides, I never wore a fucking mask so it'd be like sharing with a reporter - and nobody needs that," Jessica says, before she remembers that Karen's a reporter. "No offense. Trish said you were one of the decent journalists around here."

"Trish Walker can suck my dick," Karen states flatly. "Nothing to do with you, but she's better off keeping ten feet out of my personal space at all times."

She wonders what Trish did to earn that level of warning from Matt's golden girl. "No problem, she's not talking to me right now."

"She had the nerve, the goddamn _balls_ , to ask me for information about the Punisher. Like Matt wasn't _dead_ , like I wasn't dealing with all kinds of my own shit - like I _owed_ her a scoop when I was waiting for the call that another one of my friends was dead - she could have at leave faked a hug, or asked how I was doing," Karen hissed out.

Jessica laughs and Karen glares at her, fierce as fuck. "Damn, nobody marks you as the threat, do they? You got Castle and Murdock on your six, Girl, I'm calling you for backup next time."

"They risk their lives to keep us safe, they're not comic book characters," Karen mutters.

"Six weeks ago, I'd probably apologize for her or have an explanation ready, but..." she shrugs. "She's like a sister to me, or - I thought she was. We've been through some shit but this time - I don't think I can get over it. I'm hoping sobriety will give my life a different spin."

"I'm sorry," Karen says softly. "I shouldn't have brought it up. Make sure Matt puts her in your guidelines as off-limits. He can't bring up Frank with me and nobody's allowed to bring up Elektra, Stick or Sister Maggie with him. We never have to validate our personal relationship choices."

"She killed my mother because she thought it would save me," Jessica blurts out. Fuck. She can't believe she said it out loud.

Karen doesn't flinch and leans over, yanking her blankets until she can wrap her skinny arms around her. "Ten second hug _minimum_ for shit like that."

The door opens and closes with a snap. " _Karen_. What are you doing?"

"None of your business. Not everything is about you," Karen replies, pulling away at the ten count and smoothing her blankets down while Jessica considers the rumble of conflict in her stomach.

"I'm glad you're not fighting, but I sense a lot of emotions that weren't invited," Matt says. "Everything okay?"

He's carrying neatly folded laundry and Jessica considers how many trips he's made to the laundry room to sate his OCD about clean linens. "She's trying to get me on board with your friendship contract but the ten second hug is a deal-breaker."

"Karen, please don't scare my only non-work friend away. She likes my poetry and doesn't make me eat carbs if I don't want to," Matt whines, playing up the drama as he perches on the arm of the couch.

"You're a ridiculous person, I don't even know why I hang out with you," Karen replies.

 

* * *

 

She comes out of her latest Triazolam nap to hear muttering from the other room and spots Matt methodically tightening thick ropes around his wrists, his fingers already prepped for whatever hell he's about to raise.

"Matt."

He turns his head toward her in the technicolor shadows of the billboard but he doesn't reply.

She's too groggy to tackle him in his own house so she tries to remember boundaries and guidelines and bullshit about friends don't let friends get killed. " **Matt**."

He approaches the doorway with silent steps, gliding across the floor. "I'm going out, just for a bit."

"Don't - just - come here, Matt," she says making grabby hands until she remembers the action's wasted on him.

His footsteps stay silent, quiet as carpet on the hardwood floors until he sits, or perches on the edge of the bed. "I - I need to go - there's smoke and screaming - "

"You hear all that?" She covers his ears with her clammy hands and he goes still between her palms. " _Breathe_. You're not a fireman."

"I - I don't know the address, I can't _just_ \- I can still hear - there's no fire alarm, there's - " he hisses but doesn't pull away, twisting his fingers in the knotted ropes he's cocooned around his fists.

It's not her place to tell him to stand down but she *knows* he hasn't slept since she's been here and she *knows* he's not at his best - and that's not mentioning that he's trembling worse than she did in the heat of her detox. "Give me your phone."

He sighs but manages to pull his phone out with his restricted hands. "Call Foggy," she says and it lights up and rings, once, twice.

_"Matt, are you - "_

Jessica snitches it from him and speaks. "Nelson. There's a fire somewhere that's making the devil twitch out, can you call in a tip? He's helping me right now."

Nelson's not as stupid as he wants everyone to think. _"Sure thing. Matty, if they do a circle three blocks out, do you think - "_

"It's near Anderson, I think - that fat dog - " Matt mumbles.

 _"I know what he means, I'll take care of it. I'll buzz you back in five, Matty._ " She sets the phone beside his thigh and pokes him until his shoulders slump.

"Come on, I want some of that tea shit you made for Karen with the milk and honey. I'll even let you heat up that soup," Jessica says, sliding her fingers under the tightly-wound ropes to squeeze his arm. "I've got the phone. Stop listening to outside, you're doing shit for me right now."

He shudders but helps her to her feet and they shuffle into the kitchen so she can slump onto the stool and catch her breath.

She feels clearer with the sleeping pills working out of her system and hopes she doesn't fritz out before she settles the Devil down. She doesn't need another extended nap when she can start paying it forward with the friend stuff.

He freezes and lowers both hands to clutch the counter. "The first responders are on site, they pulled the alarm."

Jessica swipes the phone to speaker when it lights up without giving it a chance to buzz. "Yeah, he says they got there."

Nelson huffs in surprise. " _Nice, and our contact says thanks for the tip and for staying out of the way. Matt? Are you listening?"_

"I can't stop listening," Matt replies blankly.

"He hates the noise blockers," Jess says before Nelson suggests it. "He's going to make tea and feed me your mom's soup. Right, Murdock?"

"Right," Matt repeats but doesn't move. She pushes the phone closer to him and tugs on the ropes until they're a puddle on the floor. "I'm okay to stay in."

 _"Pinky swear with Jones so I'll know you're not all bondaged-out with your new rope kink_ ," Foggy insists.

Jessica snickers at Matt's flash of annoyance - but definite proof of lucidity. "Done. Thanks, Foggy."

" _Don't stay up all night, kids_ ," he yawns before the line cuts out.

"Tea," Jessica reminds Matt and when he moves toward the sink, his steps make noise. Better than ninja-kitten steps.

"I - " Matt says after he's filled the kettle. He uses for tea instead of the fancy coffee equipment. She thinks the routine's more important to him than the fancy foam. "Sorry. I'm - 'turned up to eleven'."

"You said you could sleep when someone's nearby." He raises his hand to his ear and lowers it quickly like he's swatting a bug and she has a flash of worry. "You were talking to someone."

"It's not hallucinations, it's not like before," he says entirely too quickly. "I'm - I was - I don't like smoke, I didn't know if I'll freeze up if I get ashes in my mouth, I can't - it's a different kind of crazy tonight, I can't - I'm sorry I woke you up."

"Hey. Stop thinking so hard. Why can't you sleep - you said you could sleep if someone was close, can you tune in?" She doesn't want to defuse the context of his hallucination or smoke problems without backup.

"You're all over the place," he whispers. "I don't know your baseline, but I think you were dreaming, it's - sometimes I can't choose what plays loudest in my head."

"But I'm on beat now, right? Make sure you get a cup of tea, too, because we're going to work this shit out. Your bed is entirely too comfortable for me to stay out of it for long."

"Please don't say that where my handlers can hear you," he snorts but his hands don't shake when he takes out cups.

"Put the soup in the microwave. You're going to strap that heating pad to your hip and lie the fuck down. We have to get some poetry done before you see your shrink on Monday," she adds when his lips twitch toward a scowl.

"It makes noise," Matt complains.

"You'll deal with it until we fall asleep. I need you not to be weird while I'm trying to sleep," Jessica says.

"I'm always weird. But it's worth a shot," he says.

"Good, can't have you taking over my mental breakdown - you had your turn already."

 

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

  
She lets Foggy inside at his first soft knock the next morning and nods her chin to the bedroom before he can ask.

Matt's proving he's not _entirely_ a creature of the night by curling neatly into the square of sunlight across the bed.

"He's still asleep? What did you do?" Nelson asks, putting a paper bag on the counter for her to raid. She's not touching that monstrosity of a coffee machine and they ate all the fancy bread yesterday.

"Not my fault, and he needs it. _Yay_ bread, the toaster's the only thing I'm comfortable messing with considering his whole organization thing," she motions behind her as she fights with the twist tie.

"Did Jessica Jones just say 'yay'? Is this real life?" he snickers, tiptoeing to the door to take a closer look and pull the door half-closed. "Did he ask you to call me last night?" Foggy asks, staring at the pile of ropes at his feet by the counter. She's not cleaning up - Matt is serious about his cleaning rituals.

"Not so much, but he's given me enough background on his 'guidelines' that I figured you'd be his first contact before he did something reckless." She shrugs off his blank stare.

"I'm glad you were here. We're not actively policing him, you know? I'm not putting a tracker on his phone or checking him for bruises every day," Foggy sighs.

"He says you guys don't want him in the office full time," Jessica points out.

Foggy's face flashes with shock. "No, that's got nothing to do with _this_ ," he waves his hand aimlessly. "People have been sniffing around about his identity, where he's been the past few months. If he turns up in tip-top shape every day - or worse, with bruises - then it'll be harder to deny that he's not Daredevil. The medical leave with his hip and his head, whatever - that applies to his vigilante stuff more than the office."

"Oh."

"Anything else?" Foggy asks with an open expression. God, Murdock's friends are the epitome of 'ride or die', they're doing all they can for the bastard and he's still scrabbling like a turtle on his back.

"Is an espresso machine the best idea for a guy with sleeping problems?"

Foggy laughs. "He doesn't drink it himself, haven't you noticed? He makes it for everyone else, says it gives him something to do with his hands."

Okay, she'll get to the fucking point then. "You don't think your whole 'contract' is a little excessive?"

"No," he replies immediately. "It's not. Karen and I have accepted that vigilantes don't *think* the same way we do. I learned that from you, Luke and Claire - she's the best - and Karen learned it making gooey eyes at the Punisher - which I'm not allowed to address - but there is a very large gap in understanding. Matt's a lawyer so we laid out our plan in a way he could understand."

That makes a twisted kind of sense. "Fair enough. It's working, I guess, but I wouldn't be able to live under restriction and daily welfare checks," she adds.

"Pretty sure you can take care of yourself, I'm _sorry_ \- do I need to know something about _your_ current life status?" Foggy turns to her with way too much concern in his face.

"Stand down, Foggy. God, doesn't anyone have anything else to talk about other than my mental health?" Matt asks as he joins them. His bed-head is adorable and she hopes no one ever tells him.  She wonders why it doesn't bother her that he runs interference for her with his friends - if it's because he's protecting them from her snark or her from their curiosity.

"It's too early to talk about our cases, we've got continuances for days," Foggy replies. "Do I need to know anything about last night?"

"Nah. Shrink knows about my 'ashes to ashes' thing. Smoke and taxis are triggers that we're working on," Matt says in a distracted tone that means he's totally not distracted.

"I don't get the taxi, should I get the taxi?" Foggy glances at Jessica who shrugs. She gets the smoke part - if his hearing blew out from the explosion, smoke and ash would be the only sensation he had left.

"When I got out of the prison, I passed out in a taxi and it crashed into the harbor. It took a long time for me to get out." Okay, totally not what Jessica was going to choose as an issue people could have with taxis. "I don't have to tell you _everything_ ," Matt snaps suddenly.

"If it's a trigger then _yeah_ , you kind of do," Foggy fires back.

"I'm working on it. I didn't get a chance to test myself with the smoke last night - I didn't even open a window. Jess talked me down and - you answered the phone and took care of it. Nobody died, not even that fat dog," Matt replies. "The guidelines are working, let's not push our fucking luck."

"And if you're not having a playdate next time you get the 'tingle' to deal with smoke or a taxi?" Foggy asks pointedly.

"I didn't know it would turn into a _thing_ but it's now a thing that I will triage more appropriately next time," Matt says. He snatches a slice of toast as soon as it pops out.

"Acceptable. And you - " Foggy pivots to face her down again.

"I'm 72 hours sober, so I'm with Matt - let's not push our fucking luck," Jessica says.

Foggy grins brightly. "Oh. Nice. Future playdates are totally approved."

"If we were having sex, he wouldn't even _have_ a say in approval," Matt mutters under his breath. "But _no_ , friends get the special handling instructions like I need a _nanny_ \- "

"Matthew Murdock - that is not how the rules are intended," Foggy scolds but he ninja-sprints back into the bedroom throwing a middle finger over his shoulder with his toast dangling triumphantly from his teeth.

"Don't spread it around, Foggy. In case it doesn't stick, all right?" she says under her breath. "I can manage with the Devil I know on my back, but I don't need any outside expectations. Not yet."

"No worries there, Jessica. You're always going to be down as 'a danger to yourself and others', which is top praise from Matty," he winks. "And you'll always be a client of Nelson, Murdock and Page or whatever ends up on our business cards."

"You'll probably regret all of that," Jessica scoffs but she has a warm feeling that she doesn't want to think about right now.

"Regrets are kind of par for the course around here," Foggy says. "I've made my delivery and he gets extra credit for sleeping so I'll leave you guys to finish your morning in peace." He holds out his fist and she rolls her eyes but bumps knuckles with him.

 _"Marci invited me to dinner,"_ Matt calls from the back. " _I'm not coming if it's Mexican or Italian again._ "

"I'll bring it up, Food Snob," Foggy mutters, pulling out his phone to text while he makes his exit.  


* * *

 

She takes a couple of days for herself, forwarding phone calls and making nice with her ex and his kid without doing a stupid apology. She totally blames Matt for all that since he's spamming her with haiku for 'proofreading purposes'.

 

> _i dont need your face_  
>  _all up in my business yo_  
>  _why don't you bite me_

She gives him consistent A's for theme and totally doesn't start a collage on Pinterest. She doesn't need hobbies but she supports the arts.

It's not raining and she's not busy and she's overdue for a face to face visit so she ends up at Nelson's Meats with a box of shit Malcolm ordered long before he fucked off to greener pastures.

Matt gives her a small smile when she sizes up his 'office' but at least he and Karen look professional in their 'court appropriate attire'.

"So those guidelines. Do they have emergency contacts?" Jessica asks, putting an Alias Investigations travel cup filled with Chai tea on his desk.

He sniffs the cup and takes a tiny sip but his eyebrow twitches so she knows she got the order right. "Karen's got the copy."

"I don't mean the 'bail money' or 'hospital visit' kind," she clarifies. Karen silently passes a file to her from her corner of the shared office. Jessica gives her a travel mug. "Free advertising."

"Free stuff," Karen shrugs. "We've got fills for the bail and medical stuff, a whole fund thanks to Danny Rand's girlfriend. If it's ninja-adjacent drama, they absolutely want in."

Jessica spots the swirls of signatures. "Why is Frank Castle on here?"

"Military-adjacent drama. Allegedly nobody's allowed to shoot me unless it's him," Matt crosses his arms in a pout.

"That's _not_ what he said - you know that's not what he said," Karen swats at him.

"Foggy's cop friends want a heads-up on gang shit so Misty Knight put her name down but I haven't run into her to know how much she knows," Matt ignores her.

"Probably more than you want her to," Jessica snorts. She takes her new Alias Investigations pen and signs her name. "Call me if you need help punching stuff."

"You, too," Matt says. "Right? I can help you punch stuff."

Jessica holds out the pen and Karen tucks it into her pocket. "Karen's my emergency contact. If I get caught up, she'll figure out where to send the devil without bringing your name into it."

"Oh," he murmurs, thoughtful.

Karen pats him on the head. "See what happens when people talk out loud with words? I'm so proud of us."

Jessica taps Matt's wrist. "Me and you have that Tuesday/Thursday check-in on the books until one of us relapses, right?"

"Shit, I wouldn't make it a month if that was the case," Matt shrugs, ducking Karen's next swat. "It's not my fault you and Foggy put ' _not getting punched in the face_ ' as part of my 12 step program - I'm a boxer, it's setting me up to fail."

 

 


End file.
